


Broken China Doll

by pandorabox82



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:51:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6976276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorabox82/pseuds/pandorabox82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Harry finds out his aunt is not at all what she appears to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. But What is Man?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the process of transferring my old works from other archives, and decided to move this one over. This was written in 2010.

"Did you always hate my mother, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked softly, his voice tight, controlled.

Petunia stared at him, unable to speak. Slowly, the moments ticked by, and she retreated into the past she had tried to forget for so long. 'How much do I tell him?' she thought. 'Can I even tell him?'

"Quit stalling, Auntie. I want an answer."

Her hands gripped the mug of tea more tightly, and she ignored the heat that was slowly bleeding into her hands. "No, it wasn't until she got her letter to that school…"

"So, you were jealous of her, then. Remus told me as much."

She shot him a look full of anger. "Remus Lupin wouldn't speak the truth if it bit him!"

Confusion warred with anger in his eyes, and her bit out a reply. "And just how do you know Remus? I thought you wanted nothing to do with our world."

"Your mother brought them home for the holidays her sixth year. Used them as her bodyguards, used them to protect her. But there was no one to protect me. Not one of her friends could be spared on the hateful younger sister." Her voice had lost its venomous tone, dropped to a whisper. "I was never good enough for their world and never strong enough to escape from mine." To her horror, tears began to fall from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. Letting go of the mug, she furiously wiped her cheeks, but was unable to stop the steady flow of tears.

As she went to replace her hands on the mug, suddenly desperate for the warmth it offered, she felt him take one of her hands in his own. Her first instinct was to pull away from him, but his hand was so warm against hers. She looked up from the table to stare into his eyes, eyes that were so much like Lily's.

"What happened, Aunt Petunia? Nothing so bad as to warrant all these tears, right?" he anxiously asked.

Abruptly, she yanked her hand back from his light grasp. "Forget I even said anything," she whispered. "You wouldn't understand, anyway, what with you large group of friends and protectors."

"Albus said you'd tell me the truth about Mum and you," he replied, grabbing back her hand. "I want to know."

"What do you want from me, Harry? I can't tell you this, you cannot understand, you're still so young…"

"I won't be coming back next summer. I graduate from Hogwarts, and if I make it out of the war alive, I'll be training for my job, whatever it might be. Once I'm out of the house, you know as well as I that Vernon won't let me return, not even for a visit. The only way I'll know about my family is if you tell me now, this summer."

She gave a sigh of resignation, knowing that the stubborn streak in him, inherited from Lily, would not let him leave this be. "You say now that you want truth, but I wonder if you'll still want this knowledge after I tell you."

"This is really serious, then?"

"Most likely it will make you run from us, into their waiting arms. I know that's what James would've wanted, after all."

"Merlin, Aunt Petunia! You're making no sense. I want the truth, not a bunch of riddles!"

Once more, she withdrew her hand from his. "Then the truth it shall be. Don't say I didn't warn you, though. Run up to my bedroom and grab the brown leather photo album that's on the nightstand next to my side of the bed. When you return, I'll begin to tell you."

She watched him run out of the kitchen, eager to have his answers. 'Can I really tell him this? Can he really begin to understand my choices, and Lily's?' she thought, her heart heavy in her chest.

He returned a few minutes later, just as she finished composing herself. "I've brought the album. What's so important about it?"

"Open the front cover, and you'll begin to understand a little."

Harry did as he was told and saw two photographs. "I thought you didn't keep any pictures of Mum and Dad," he slowly said.

"Look closer, Harry. Those people aren't who you think they are."

He took a second look and began to see the differences. The man wasn't wearing glasses and had blue eyes instead of the brown of his father. The woman, though at first glance looked much as his mother had, had more of the features of his aunt. "Are these?"

"Your grandparents? Yes, they are. Matthew and Marigold Evans, now deceased."

"What have they to do with this?"

"Everything, Harry, everything," she replied, sounding like a lost little girl. "I suppose, for you to really understand what happened between us, I should go back to the very beginning, before I was born, even before Lily was born."

"Then, you're the youngest? Bust your eyes have always looked so…" he trailed off, not wanting to be rude and have her not tell him the truth.

She finished his statement with a mirthless laugh. "Old? Is that the word you were going to say?" Flipping the pages of the album, she came to a page of her and Lily when they were four and six. "Look at the first picture on this page, and the last."

He drank in the sight of his mother, who looked so carefree playing with her sister, in the first picture. Looking at the last picture, though, shocked him. There was a hurt lying behind both their eyes, which their smiles couldn't erase. "How long between these pictures?" he asked.

"Two months. Harry, we don't have to do this," she whispered, a pleading tone in her voice.

"Yes, we do. Let me into your past, and my mother's. I need to understand."

"Then the beginning it is."


	2. Lyrics on Postcards

"Mama was the first of her family to go to college. She had received a music scholarship and jumped at the chance to get out of her little village. Everyone expected her to major in music, and so they were stunned when she decided to become a nurse. Oh, she still kept up with her music, but there was a fire in her that drove her to healing others.

"She met Father her freshman year and they fell in love. Both were in Chorus, and seeing each other so often drew them together. Soon, they were seeing each other outside of class, and one thing led to another…"

"Marigold, I realise that we've only been seeing each other for the last six months, but the summer is fast approaching, and I don't want to go home without asking you this." Matthew bent down on one knee and pulled out a black velvet box. Opening it, he asked, "Marigold Boyd, will you marry me?"

Tears sparkled in Marigold's eyes as she replied. "Yes, Matthew, I'll marry you!"

Quickly, he removed the ring from its bed of crushed silk and placed it on her finger. Then he stood and pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips pressed firm to hers. "I love you," he murmured against her.

"And I, you, Matthew"

As soon as her parents found out about their plans, a whirlwind of activity began. While not totally for their daughter marrying so young, they were happy she had found someone who loved her, and whom she loved back.

Both Marigold and Matthew decided that they wanted a quick wedding, they wanted to be together. So, the preparations were made for an August wedding. Both agreed that a small, intimate, ceremony would suit them best. Mainly family and a few friends were invited, and they were married by an old friend of the Evans family.

Marigold had looked resplendent in her gown, with the long train that she'd desired since primary school. Matthew had been coaxed into a kilt, and though he was a bit uncomfortable in it, seeing his Mari coming towards him, looking radiantly happy, erased all feelings of discomfort.

The next thing they both knew the minister was saying a blessing over them and then pronouncing them man and wife. Together, they walked to the back of the sanctuary, the wedding party following them, and stood there to greet their guests. Finally, the last one was through the line and they were able to leave for the luncheon being served at the Evans's home.

Time still seemed to be flying, and they were soon on their way to the airport, getting on a plane bound for Majorca, where they were going to spend the week before heading back for the next semester. They hardly noticed the press of people getting in their last holiday of the summer, so engrossed in each other they were. The hotel that her parents had gotten them a room in was beautiful and added to the ambiance of the past few hours.

They ordered room service, and while they were waiting for it to arrive, they unpacked. As Marigold opened her suitcase, she flushed with embarrassment. She'd known her best friend had threatened to pack the silk negligee, which she'd bought her, when Marigold wasn't looking and somehow, she had. It wasn't that Marigold had a bad body, she just didn't like the exposure of something so sheer, even if it was ankle-length and for her husband.

She was so focused on the negligee that she didn't hear Matthew come up behind her. What snapped her out of her reverie were his hands reaching around her waist to pull her close to him and his lips on her neck. Marigold shivered as he asked her about the thin piece of silk that lay on top of the rest of her things.

"Oh, it's nothing, just Cara's idea of a joke."

"Well, you are going to wear it tonight, aren't you?"

"I don't know, luv. It's so revealing."

"That's what's great about it. After all, we are married now. You don't have to be ashamed to let me see you."

"I suppose you're right, Matthew. But I still feel uncomfortable." Her words were interrupted by a knock on their door, announcing the arrival of the dinner he had ordered. He opened the door and let the young man in. The boy quickly set up the meal on the table on their veranda. After lighting a candle, he waited for Matthew to pay him. Matthew did and also gave him a large tip.

"If you need anything else, sir, just call down to the front desk and ask for Alan," he said as he left the room.

"I'll be certain to do that," Matthew replied as he shut the door. Marigold had taken a seat at the table during the exchange, and Matthew joined her. Silently, they ate the delicious food, a sense of nervous anticipation filling the air around them. Finally, they were finished, and as Matthew stacked the dishes on the tray left behind, Marigold grabbed the negligee and went into the loo to change.

As she looked in the full-length mirror, she saw the blush that stained her cheeks, as well as most everything else about her. She desperately wanted something else to wear, but a part of her wanted to please her husband, and she knew that by wearing this wisp of cloth, she would. Screwing up her courage, she opened the door and stepped out into the room.

Matthew had dimmed the lights and lit a few candles and had placed them on the nightstand next to the bed. He stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in and pulled her into a tight embrace, fervently kissing her. He maneuvered her to the bed, and the last thing she remembered was the sound of the delicate silk ripping.

The next morning, Marigold woke up feeling sore. She blushed as some of the night's activities flashed through her head. Struggling to sit up in bed, she felt pain in places she never knew she had. Matthew was woken up by her movements, and he smiled lazily at her. She smiled back, but it was forced. 'If I'd known this is what happened on a wedding night, I would never have gotten married,' she thought. Throwing off the covers, she slipped out of bed, then padded slowly to the bathroom. She stepped into the shower and turned the water on full blast. As the water poured down over her, she began to softly cry. In that moment, she vowed that she would do whatever she had to do to ensure that Matthew would never touch her like that again.

When they returned home, school took up a lot of their time, and the job that Matthew worked at ensured there wasn't much time left for the two of them to be together. About October, Marigold began to get sick every morning and she knew she'd found a way to ensure he wouldn't touch her for at least seven months, if not longer. She scheduled an appointment with her doctor, who confirmed her thoughts – she was pregnant, and most likely due mid to late May.

Marigold was relieved to hear that the baby would be born after the end of the semester, and went home to tell Matthew the good news about the baby, and the more wonderful news about the fact they couldn't be physical until after the baby was born. Gleefully, she told him that the doctor had said she was healthy, but since she was so small, he didn't want her endangering the baby unnecessarily. Matthew took this all in stride, not even minding the end of his intimacy with his wife, or so it seemed to Marigold. She just thought he was overwhelmed with happiness that he was going to be a father.

Lily was born on 16 May, 1960. Marigold was pleased that she had a daughter, and named her in the family tradition. Both she and Matthew had decided she should take a semester off from school to get Lily started right in life. When Marigold returned to school in the winter of 1961, it was to an extremely reduced course load. She was loath to leave Lily alone, so Matthew had decided to take a job at his father's factory and look after Lily on the two evenings that Marigold had class.

Matthew also became insistent about claiming his husbandly rights, as he termed it. Marigold knew she had to let him, as he was her husband. It came to no surprise to her when she found out in October of 1961 that she was once again pregnant. Again, she relished it as alone time for her, time where she wouldn't have to endure his touch upon her body. She never sensed the frustration he felt at not being able to love his wife completely.

On 17 May, 1962, Petunia was born, looking for all the world like Marigold, except for the hair, which was Matthew's. Lily loved her baby sister, and helped Marigold as much as she could, which wasn't a whole lot, being only two years old. This time, Marigold took longer to recuperate, as she had had to have a hysterectomy after Petunia's birth. She'd been hemorrhaging terribly, and the doctors had told Matthew that was the only way to save her. Reluctantly, he had agreed, and their family was fixed to the four of them.

"Vernon and Dudley will be home soon. I'll tell you more tomorrow."

"But you didn't really tell me anything, Aunt Petunia, except that Grandfather Evans gave up college for his family, Grandmother Evans was frigid, and that it was only you and Mum. Can't you tell me more, now?"

"Not today, Boy. Vernon would be very upset if he found us like this. Besides, I need to begin supper. Run out and work in the garden for a bit. It's been a warm day, and I know my roses could do with some water."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he sullenly replied, stalking out into the garden, his brain mulling over the story his aunt had begun to tell him. Then it hit him; she was laying the background for something big. She'd made an emphasis about his grandmother's coldness to his grandfather. 'Could she really be implying, no, she couldn't. I'm certain I'll find out more tomorrow.'


	3. In This Vicious World

After Petunia had seen her boys off, she brought out the picture album again, opening once more to the pictures of her and Lily. Harry had made them some tea and was sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for her. She set the album before him, and watched him once more take in the sight of his mother as a child. Heavily, she sat down across from him, wanting the expanse of table between them to keep her from getting too close to him.

"Are we skipping into the future, Aunt Petunia?"

"Yes, because life was normal up until the summer pictured here. Mama had finally finished her nursing degree, and had gotten a job at the hospital. She worked the night shift, so she could see us during the day, when she wasn't sleeping, and Father watched us at night…"

~ Summer 1966 ~

"Smile for the camera, girls!" Marigold called out, but Lily and Petunia were having too much fun running around the beach to listen to their mother. Marigold snapped a few pictures anyway, hoping one would turn out decent.

Walking over to Matthew, she smiled and handed him the camera. "This is our last holiday of summer, and it's only begun. We should probably get going soon; I have to get adjusted to this new cycle."

He smiled at her and stood up. "I'm so proud of you finishing your degree, luv. Now we'll be able to move from the apartment into a nice house in a good neighbourhood for the girls' sake," he replied, giving her a quick kiss. Hand in hand, they walked back to their girls, and helped them gather all the things they'd brought.

Once in the car and on the way home, Petunia looked at her sister and asked, "Will the other kids be able to read, too?"

"If they've had big sisters who've taught them to." Lily smiled at her little sister, who'd really taken to reading since Lily had shown her how. Somehow, she knew that Petunia would be ahead of most of her class when she started in the fall. Her sister's head fell against her shoulder, asleep, and Lily smiled down at her. Finally, they would be together, not separated, as they had been since Lily had started school. 'I'll protect her from the bullies,' Lily thought, knowing Petunia would most likely be picked on, starting school a whole year earlier than most students.

Lily rested her head on Petunia's her eyes closing gently, a smile on her lips. 'Together, forever,' was her last thought before she drifted off to sleep.

Neither girl noticed being carried into the house by their parents, they were so deeply asleep. They were placed in the same bed, and Petunia curled up against Lily and they slept on. Quietly, Matthew and Marigold slipped out of the room, leaving their girls in peace.

"Tomorrow's the day, then. I'm so glad you're staying home the entire day to ensure I get some sleep. What would I do without you, Matthew?"

"Oh, you'd survive somehow, Marigold. Now, remember, lots of tea for the caffeine to keep you awake. I'll see you in the morning, unless…"

"Unless what, Matthew? Oh, right, never mind." She kissed him, and let him lead her into their bedroom, happily giving in to him for the last time until their schedules matched once more.

The next morning, the girls woke up to breakfast in bed. "Papa, what're you doing?" Lily asked.

"Treating my girls like the princesses they are. Now, Mama's asleep, so you can't be too loud. If you're good, I'll take you down to the park this afternoon."

"Really, Papa? The park? But don't you have to go to work?" Petunia asked.

"Not today. It's my last day on holiday, so I'll be with you the entire day."

The girls were excited, as it was rare that they had a whole day alone with their father. Hurriedly, they ate their food, and ran outside the apartment complex, trying to play as quietly as they could. The hours slipped by quickly, and soon their mother was calling them in for lunch.

"Mama, were we too loud?" Petunia asked, giving her mother a hug.

"No, dear. You were fine. This is the time I need to be up, though."

"Good, because I want to go to the park. I wish you could come with us."

"Yeah! That would be so much fun!" Lily piped in as she wrapped her arms around her mother.

"I'd love to, girls. But this job is really important to me. Don't worry, though, your papa's home, and he'll take good care of you. Now come inside for lunch." Marigold placed her arms around her daughters and herded them into their apartment.

They sat around the table, eating their lunch and talking. Petunia was quiet, though. She didn't want her mama to go to work and leave her alone. She silently finished eating and waited for the others to finish. When they'd done so, she helped her mama clear the table, taking the dishes over to the sink where she began to wash them. As Lily dried them, she handed the dishes to her mother to put away. "Petunia, you like to help Mama cook, so that's going to be your job from now on. Every day, you're going to help me get lunch ready, until you can do it on your own. Lily will get breakfast for the two of you this summer, but you're getting big and need to know these kind of things. All right, honey?"

Petunia grinned. Of course it was all right for her to help her mama with lunch! That meant she'd be spending more time with Mama, which suited her just fine. "Yes, Mama," she replied.

"Oh, Mama, do I have to make breakfast? I'm no good in the kitchen, you've said so yourself," Lily whined, a small pout on her pretty face.

"Until Petunia has mastered lunch, you're responsible for breakfast/ Later, we'll see how things are progressing, and give out different chores. Now, I must go, as I have to be there a little early, first day and all. Be good for Papa, and I'll see you tomorrow." Marigold untied her apron and handed it to Lily before pulling her and Petunia in to a tight hug. "Oh, I love you so much my darling blossoms." Kissing their heads, she broke the embrace and grabbed her purse off the counter and walked out of the kitchen and into the hall.

Lily and Petunia ran after her and watched her put on a light summer jacket to shield herself from the mist that had sprung up during lunch. Matthew joined them in the hall, coming from the living room. He pulled his wife into a tight embrace and kissed her soundly. Marigold blushed, embarrassed at the display of affection in front of their girls, and moved to the door. Opening it, she stepped outside, and then waved to her family before going to her car and taking off.

Matthew shut the door and turned to his girls. "What are you going to do now?" he asked.

"I'm going to read," Lily replied.

"I'm going to play with my dollies," said Petunia with a small smile.

"I have a better idea. Let's play doctor," Matthew said, a feral glint in his eye, a look Petunia had often seen before when he looked at her or Lily. "I'll be the doctor, Petunia can be the nurse, and Lily will be the patient. Come on, girls, why the long faces? This will be fun, I promise."

Reluctantly, the girls followed him upstairs to his bedroom, following his instructions. Matthew had Lily lie on the bed, while Petunia drew a sheet over her. Slowly, he approached the bed and leaned over Lily, who was trying to tell herself that everything was okay. Suddenly, Matthew pounced on her, tickling her sides until she burst out laughing. He continued to tickle her until she was begging for him to stop.

"Me next, Papa! I want to be the patient now!" Petunia exclaimed when she saw what fun Lily was having. Hurriedly, she crawled into the bed and pulled the sheet over her. Lily scrambled out of the bed and left the room, telling her father she was going to read.

"Looks like it's just the doctor and his patient," Matthew said lowly, staring at his daughter. He waited until he knew she wasn't expecting him before pouncing on her and tickling her like he had Lily. When he had her laughing so hard from the feeling, he reached around with one of his hands and pinched her bottom. Immediately Petunia's laughter stopped, and she stared at him. "I'm sorry sweetie, my had slipped."

"I want to go play with Lily now," she replied, a frown marring her face.

Matthew nodded his assent, and Petunia slipped off the bed and ran into Lily's room. When she got a good look at her beloved older sister, she was shocked to find her crying on her bed. 'Lily never cries,' Petunia thought as she took a seat on the bed. "Did he pinch you too, Lily?" she hesitantly asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

Lily nodded and began to cry harder than before. Petunia reached out with her left hand and stroked her sister's soft, red, hair. Trying to stifle the yawn that signalled it was just about time for her afternoon nap, Petunia scooted down on the bed in order to lay down next to her sister. She felt Lily's arms hesitantly wrap around her waist and Petunia snuggled close to her sister, falling quickly asleep...

The days soon fell in to a regular pattern. The touches from their father began to become more frequent and they drew closer to each other, Lily defending her little sister as best she could. They knew that what he was doing wasn't right, but they didn't want to bother their mother, as her job was very stressful, and she always came home tired and cranky.

Right before the school term was about to begin, Marigold was able to get a weekend off. They went as a family to Surrey. Stopping in front of a little brick house, both Matthew and Marigold got out of the car and went up to the door. Lily and Petunia continued to sit in the back seat of the car until their mother beckoned to them from the porch. Slowly, they got out of the car and approached the house.

"Isn't it beautiful, my blossoms? And there are three bedrooms; so you'll each have your own now. We move in tomorrow. Now, let's go up and pick out your rooms. Oh, wait, before we do go in, stand on the steps and smile, girls. I want a picture to remember this moment by."

Lily and Petunia stood on the porch, Lily's arm around her sister. Together, they tried to smile, but their smile seemed forced, never quite reaching their eyes, unable to chase away the haunted looks that were now as natural to them as breathing. After the picture was taken, Marigold swept them into a tight hug.

"Oh my little blossoms, we'll be so happy here," she whispered, before letting them go and ushering them into the house.

Slowly, Petunia closed the photo album, her mind still fixed somewhere in the past. She jumped slightly when she felt Harry's hand cover hers, which was still on the album. Looking into his eyes, she whispered, "We were happy once, even if only for a short time."

"Aunt Petunia, I –"

"No questions, Harry," she interrupted. "I don't believe I'd have any answers. Now, you'd best get to work out in the garden. They'll be home soon." She stared at the table, not really seeing anything, tears coursing down her cheeks.

Harry wanted to reach out to his aunt, say something to her, anything to make her feel better. But he was stopped by his mind telling him she wasn't ready for him yet to be the nephew to her he was supposed to be. He settled for rubbing her shoulder lightly on his way outside.

Petunia took a shaky breath, and stood from the table, taking the album with her as she exited the room. Going into the living room, she set the album on one of the shelves of the end table, and then lay down on the couch. She was soon fast asleep, and so missed Harry come in from the garden and begin supper for her.


	4. I Turned Myself Into a person That I Didn't Like

Try as she might, all of Petunia's stalling tactics failed the next morning. Vernon had to go in early to work, and Dudley went to spend his day off with Piers, who also had the day off. Softly sighing, she went into the kitchen, knowing that this segment of the story would be the hardest to tell to Harry, and harder still to explain, should he ask any questions. As she took a seat at the table, she noticed Harry was not there yet. She was just about to get up when Harry came in, taking a seat next to her, the seat Vernon normally say at.

He took a deep breath, and then asked, "Where do we begin today, Aunt Petunia?"

"Further in the future, Harry, to the summer that Lily received her letter from that school of hers, and left me all alone, when just a few summers before, she'd promised to protect me, no matter what…"

They were playing in the yard when the owl came. It stopped right in front of Lily, who screamed at it. Petunia wasn't afraid, though, and noticed something tied to its leg. Quickly, she removed what appeared to be a letter, and the owl took off, leaving them alone.

Looking at the thick envelope, Petunia saw it was addressed to her sister, and she wordlessly handed it to her. Deep in her heart, Petunia knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

Eagerly Lily ripped open the envelope, quickly scanning its contents. When she was finished, she looked at Petunia, hope shining in her eyes. "It's our ticket out of here, Petunia. I'm a witch, and have been asked to go to a school called Hogwarts to learn to be like other witches. Someone is coming tomorrow to speak with Mum and Da about this. Just think of how we'll be free!" Happily she ran to her sister and gave her a hug. "We'll never have to worry about him again."

Petunia disentangled herself from her sister's embrace. "Why didn't my letter come today, then?"

"Maybe you have to be a certain age to go there, or have to complete so many years of schooling before you get a letter. I don't know, but I guess we'll find out tomorrow when this Minerva McGonagall comes to visit. Let's go tell Mum the good news!" Lily ran inside, leaving Petunia to her musings.

'But what if I don't get a letter in two years, what then? I'll be the only one here,' she thought, a tear slowly rolling down her face. Brushing it away, she followed her sister inside.

The next day, promptly at tea-time, a severe looking woman knocked on the Evans's door. Petunia answered the knocking and let her in the house.

"Are you Lily Evans?"

"No, that's my sister. They're all in the parlour, waiting for you. If you'll follow me, please." Petunia led the woman to the rest of her family, playing the perfect hostess the entire way. As the woman sat, Petunia offered her a cup of tea, and then took a seat herself, next to Lily.

"As you may know, I'm here about your daughter's education. She's been selected, at birth, to come to Hogwarts, as her blood carries the magic. We help to hone the student's use of magic at Hogwarts, and it really is an honour to be selected to go there. There are other schools like ours, but none of them are the same calibre that Hogwarts is." She looked at Matthew and Marigold over her glasses. "Have you decided yet to let Lily attend, or are there some questions you need answered first?"

"We do have some questions for you, if you don't mind. Lily, Petunia, go play in your rooms. Your father and I wish to talk to Ms McGonagall alone."

Silently, the girls stood and left the room. Together, they walked up the stairs and when they got to Lily's room, she pulled her sister in with her.

"Do you think Mum will let me go? Oh, Pets, I have to go, I have to get out of this house."

"But if you go, you'll be leaving me here, alone. With you gone, who will protect me?"

"We could tell, you know."

"No, Lily! You know what he said he'd do if we ever told anyone. We can't do that!" Petunia exclaimed, bursting into tears. Lily wrapped her arms around her little sister, offering her what comfort she could.

Soon, Petunia's tears were done, and she and Lily sat on the bed, reading together. Time passed them by lightly, and they were startled by the door opening.

"Come girls, we're going into London to get Lily's supplies for school. Ms McGonagall is going with us, so that we understand everything. Don't dawdle, we have a lot to do."

Lily smiled at her mother. "I'm going then?"

"Of course you're going. This is a wonderful opportunity for you, and hopefully for Petunia in two years. Now, let's get a move on."

Lily jumped from her bed and ran out the door. Petunia followed her more slowly, trying to take in the fact that her protector would be gone from her come the fall. As she passed by her mother, Marigold slipped her arm around her. "Don't worry, my little blossom. I'm switching to days this fall so I can spend more time with you. I'd hoped Lily would be here too, but it'll just be you and me." Petunia snuggled close to her mother, and let her lead her from the room.

Matthew had the car running and Lily was in the backseat, next to Ms McGonagall. Petunia also got in the back, while Marigold took a seat up front. The entire drive to London, Lily chattered on, asking rapid fire questions and not letting any one else, save Minerva, get a word in edgewise.

They had good driving all the way there and somehow ended up arriving a full forty-five minutes earlier than they normally did. After finding a parking spot for their car, they got out and followed Minerva, who knew where she was going. She led them through a smoky pub and out to the back alley, where she pulled out her wand and tapped on the bricks in a set pattern. Soon, the bricks opened, revealing a shop-lined street that was busy with people.

"The first stop you need to make is at Gringotts, which is our banking system. If you'll follow me." She turned and began to walk away. Marigold grabbed Petunia and Lily's hand and began to follow here, Matthew bringing up the rear. They soon arrived and transferred money from their bank to this one, setting up accounts for Lily and Petunia.

Minerva instructed them on how much money to take out for Lily's supplies, with a little extra for anything that caught their eye. Leaving the bank, she led them to Madam Malkin's, so that Lily could be fitted for her school robes.

"They'll be ready by the time you finish shopping," Madam Malkin herself had declared as Minerva led them back out onto the bustling street. They proceeded to get everything on the list of supplies that had been sent, except for the books and a wand. Stopping in front of an ancient looking shop, Minerva led just Lily and Petunia inside.

The interior looked just as old as the exterior, and Petunia marveled at all the small boxes the shelves contained. From seemingly nowhere, an older gentleman appeared, his odd-coloured eyes seeming to pierce Petunia to the core. "Ah, Minerva. I see you brought the Evans girls. But only one is ready for Hogwarts, isn't that right, Lily?"

Lily jumped at being addressed by someone she'd never been introduced to. "Yes, that's right, sir."

"Now, let's see about getting you a wand." He pulled out a measuring tape, and while it took all sorts of measurements on Lily, he beckoned Petunia, who followed him to the back. "I have a gift for you, Petunia," he said as he began to rummage through the boxes, looking for something. "Ah, here's Lily's wand. Now, as for you, my dear, I want you to take this wand home with you and keep it safe until you need it."

"That will be in just a few years, right, sir?"

"Only time will tell, Petunia," he cryptically responded, leading her back to the front of the shop. "Ah, Lily, I've found your wand. Give it a try," he said, holding the wand box out to her. She opened the box carefully and lifted the wand from its bed of satin. Sparks shot out of the end and Lily and Petunia laughed at the sight.

"How much do I owe you, sir?"

"Let's see, your wand is 10 ¼" willow wood, so that will be eight Galleons. I suspect you will do quite well in Charms," he responded.

Lily counted out the money he'd requested, and they left the shop. Petunia slipped her wand box into her jacket pocket as they all continued on to the bookstore – Flourish and Botts. Petunia had never seen so many books that she hadn't heard of, and instantly fell in love with the cozy shop. Absently, she wandered away from her parents and Lily and Ms McGonagall, and found herself in front of the children's section. There were two red-headed boys there, both younger than she was.

"Excuse me, but could you recommend a good book for me?" she asked the oldest.

He smiled at here and pulled out one of his favourite stories, Sarah in Muggleland, and handed it to the girl who had asked him about books. "Mum reads this one to us all the time."

"Thanks," Petunia replied, thumbing through the pages. 'Hopefully they'll buy this for me,' she thought, having fallen in love with the book instantly.

"Bill! Charlie! We have to get going." A young-looking woman approached the boys, her bright red hair pulled back into a plait. "Well, hello. Who are you, dear?"

"I'm Petunia Evans. My sister Lily is getting her books for Hogwarts today. I won't be going for another two years," she replied, smiling at the woman.

"Are you Muggles, then?"

"I suppose so. At least, that's what Ms McGonagall said. Can you keep a secret? Ollivander made Lily pay for her wand, but he gave me mine. Wasn't that nice of him? Oh! I've got to go, my parents are waiting for me. I hope I see you again, you seem so nice." Petunia ran over to her parents, missing the look the woman gave her. She showed her parents the book Bill had picked out for her. "May I get it?" she asked.

"Certainly, sweetie," her father replied, adding it to the tack of books for Lily. Once they'd been rung up and paid for everything, they left the store, and Ms McGonagall took the girls to the ice cream shop while their parents went to pick up Lily's robes.

After a short while, their parents returned, and they left Diagon Alley. Ms McGonagall walked them back to their car, and then watched them leave. Petunia waved to her through the back window, watching her fade into the busy background of London. Once they were home, Lily put all her school things in an old steamer trunk that had belonged to their grandmother.

However, she kept out the Charms book and began to pore over its contents. Petunia tried to get her to talk, but Lily was too engrossed in her book. Resignedly, Petunia went to her room and placed her wand on the top shelf of her closet, underneath her winter sweaters. Then she went over to her bed, lay down, and began to read her book.

The rest of summer passed that way, with Lily becoming more and more enraptured with the world that was offering her escape, and Petunia becoming all the more withdrawn as their father's focus became further shifted to only her. Oh, how desperately she wanted to go with Lily! After all, she'd been let into her first school early, so why not Hogwarts?

As the first of September approached, Petunia became more despondent, so much so that Marigold took notice of it, and asked her if there was something wrong. Petunia lied, telling her mother she was just missing Lily before Lily was even gone and Marigold took it for truth. Petunia was a good liar by then.

When it came time to take Lily to the train station, Petunia opted to stay home. Her parents let her, and she watched Lily leave her from her bedroom window, tears streaming down her face. Turning from the window when they were out of sight and throwing herself onto her bed, she sobbed herself into a restless sleep.

She returned to school, without Lily, and fielded the many questions of where her sister had disappeared to. The days fell into an uneasy pattern, and Petunia began to expect when her father would come to her in the night. She was never strong enough to defy him, and endured what he did to her, each time begging in her mind for Lily to come home, to protect her from this monster they called father, but Lily never came, never protected her. And so, even though Petunia dearly loved her older sister, she began to resent the freedom she had attained.  
Petunia stopped speaking, and stared down at her lap where her hands lay folded. She couldn't bear to see the censure and disgust she knew would be evident in Harry's eyes. "Well, since we're finished here, you might as well go out in the garden for a few minutes. You don't have to do anything, mind you, just be out there when Vernon come home. Dudley won't be back until later, seeing as he's with Piers today." Abruptly, she stood from the table and went to the sink, staring out the window into the backyard.

"Will you tell me more tomorrow?" she heard Harry ask softly.

"No, tomorrow's Saturday and Vernon will be home. He's actually planning to take Dudley and me out, so you'll have a day free from us. Then we have church on Sunday. We'll begin again on Monday. The sooner I finish this, the better for both of us."

She heard a chair scrape against the floor, and was relieved that Harry had decided to go outside so she could be alone with her memories. Petunia was shocked to her very core when she felt a strong pair of arms wrap around her waist and a sharp chin set itself on her shoulder. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"Giving you a hug. I wanted so desperately for this story of your past to justify my hate for you and Uncle Vernon. I don't know about him, but I know I can't hate you Aunt Petunia, not any more. There's so little time for hate in my life – I need to be focused on my hate for Voldemort." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Besides that, I think my heart is telling me I love you."

Petunia turned her body slightly to look at him, only seeing Lily's eyes looking back at her, filled with a love she'd not seen in so long. Yes, Vernon loved her, but only when she was perfect, and she'd not been very perfect lately. A small cry that she tried to stifle escaped her lips, and Harry pulled her closer to him, letting her sob on his shoulder.

Her tears were shed quickly, and she'd soon pulled herself together. Harry let his aunt go, and as she began to get ready for supper, he said to her, "I'm going upstairs, Aunt Petunia. There are some people I need to write. I've been neglecting them all summer."

She listened to him leave the kitchen and walk up the stairs, a single thought on her mind: He said that he loves me.


	5. Tears That You've Been Living With

The weekend had passed quickly, with Harry holed up in his room for the majority of the time. Petunia didn't know what he was doing up there, but she did notice the increased number of owls going to and from his window. She wondered who he was writing to, and what he was saying.

Monday, things returned to their routine. She kissed Vernon and Dudley good-bye as they left for work, and thew went back to the kitchen. Harry was sitting in Vernon's chair again, and she took her normal seat. Looking at Harry, she asked, "How are you doing in school?"

"Fine, I suppose. I'm not at the very top of my class, that's Hermione, but I'm not at the bottom, either. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious, I suppose. Your mum always did well in her classes as well. My grades just never seemed to be adequate for him, and the more he pushed the worse it got. They didn't want to move me up to the fourth form, but they did. Then, Lily came home for Christmas, bringing that boy with her, and his little friends…"

"Mum, Da, Petunia, I'd like you to meet James Potter, and his friends Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin. They wanted to spend Christmas here." Lily stared at her father, daring him to nay say her, or so it seemed to Petunia.

She felt someone's eyes on her, and looking around, saw it was the one Lily had called Remus. Petunia recalled that name from her Roman mythology book she'd read ages ago. She smiled shyly at him, and was hurt when he turned his head from her. 'Of course, Lily's probably told them everything I've said and done to her,' she thought. 'Well, no matter, I don't need those freaks around me anyway.' She blinked back the sharp prickle of tears and went upstairs, shutting herself in her room.

Suppertime came, and she ventured out of her room. Lily had met her on the stairs, and told her she'd just come to get her. Together, they continued down the stairs. They were eating in the dining room, the only place with enough room for all of them.

The conversation was stilted, with the boys trying not to speak to Petunia, yet still trying to be polite. She kept quiet and let them think of her what they would. She had nothing to prove to them. Finally, she was allowed to return upstairs, and once again shut herself in her room, away from their accusing stares. She tried to read, but found she couldn't concentrate on even her favourite books.

'Maybe he won't come tonight, seeing as we have guests,' she thought before she drifted off to sleep.

It was about two in the morning, and her father had just left her room. Petunia could not get back to sleep for the life of her, and so she crept downstairs and into the kitchen for a glass of milk. Turning on the light, she was surprised to find she was not alone.

"Couldn't sleep either, Petunia? Was your conscience getting to you?"

"You're Remus, aren't you?"

"Guilty as charged. Now, what's a young girl like you doing up this time of night?"

"Like you said, I couldn't sleep. Where are the rest of your friends?"

"Camped out in front of Lily's door. She said that sometimes your father sleepwalks and wakes her up. We're making sure that doesn't happen this year? Does he ever disturb your sleep?"

It took all Petunia had in her not to respond to his question. He was so close to the truth as it was that any little slip on her part might hurt both her and Lily. Instead, she just chose to stare at him, watching him sniff the air, almost as if he could smell what her father had done to her that night.

"Are you certain you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Remus! I just wish you freaks had stayed in your world!" she hissed back at him through clenched teeth.

"So, Lily was right. You are jealous of her and what she can do. Petunia, grow up. She's just different than you are, nothing more and nothing less. She's your sister for Merlin's sake, and she loves you."

To Petunia's utter mortification, she began to cry. She never let anyone see her cry. "She left me alone, with him. If she'd really loved me, she would have taken me with her." Turning, she ran blindly up to her room, forgetting about the reason she'd gone downstairs in the first place.

Once she was upstairs, she took a look at Lily's door. Sure enough, just as Remus had said, those freaks were camped out in front of it. Petunia went into her room, lay on her bed, and covered herself up with a blanket. Sleep overtook her the moment her head touched the pillow, and so she missed hearing Remus come up the stairs and move his blanket and pillow from Lily's door to her own.

The next day, Petunia got up early and fixed breakfast for everyone. It was what she did normally, and to her, the sense of normalcy was fast becoming something she had to have at any cost. Nothing in her life was normal, and if anyone really knew what was happening to her, they'd all be a little more sympathetic – even Lily's gang, she was certain of it. But no one knew, and no one would ever know of the life she was forced to live, not if she wanted to stay relatively safe. Petunia wasn't strong, but she was smart, and she knew when to pick her battles and with whom.

Slowly, the others came down to the kitchen, and Petunia fed them without complaint. No one noticed the way Petunia stiffened her body when her father kissed her forehead or the tears that shone in her eyes when he left Lily alone. 'Even now, Lily is the favoured child, more deserving of love and respect than I am,' she thought bitterly.

The day itself passed quickly, and though Remus had tried to get her to go with them to the city, Petunia refused. She didn't want to be seen anywhere with those freaks, people might talk, and she couldn't have that. So instead, she spent the time re-reading the book she'd grown to love as a child – Sarah in Muggleland. Instantly, her memory took her back to that day in Flourish and Blotts, and the kindness of a family she'd never gotten the names to. She napped about halfway through the book, her exhaustion catching up to her.

A few hours later, she woke up to Lily pounding on her door. "Get up Petunia. It's time for supper. Mum says you missed lunch, and so you have to come down now."

Petunia opened the door to her room after getting out of bed. Lily stood there smiling and unconsciously she returned the smile. Together, they walked down to the dining room, and Petunia took a seat next to Remus. He tried to engage her in a conversation, but she responded to him seldomly, and when she did, it was with monosyllabic answers. Finally, he gave up and started talking to Peter and Sirius, who'd been giving him odd look all of supper.

Once more, Petunia was glad for the end of supper and her ability to escape to her room. As she got up to leave, she caught the look in her father's eye and knew he'd be there in her room again, and she shuddered. Her heart grew heavy as she thought about the night to come.

Tears stung Petunia's eyes as she made her way down to the kitchen once more. Tonight, he'd been rougher than he normally was, and she hurt so badly, both in her body and her heart. Stumbling into the kitchen, she took a seat at the table, buried her head in her arms, and sobbed.

"It's more than sleepwalking, isn't it, Petunia?"

Gasping, she looked up from the nest of her arms to look into Remus's solemn face. "What are you talking about? I-I just finished a very moving novel and was simply overcome."

"You're lying, Petunia. I can smell him on you, even if the others can't. How can you let this happen, night after night?"

"I'm not strong enough to oppose him. He said he'd really hurt us if we ever told anyone. You must promise me not to say a word to anyone. I don't want him to hurt Lily." She put her head back down and cried once more, and she felt him move closer to her.

"I'll only promise not to tell if you let me protect you the rest of our time here. I can't sit back and watch him destroy you, even if you do hate Lily."

"That's just it, I don't hate Lily. I hate the fact she was strong enough to escape, to be free of him. She's not coming home this summer, is she?"

"No, she's not. How did you know?"

"The ring on her finger that only recently appeared. The secret looks she's been giving James. The owls that leave here in the middle of the night with large packages tied to them. All these add up to someone who is making their final visit here."

"You could come with us, Petunia. There are people who would take you in, love you, be the parents to you that yours are not. I know the Weasleys have always wanted to have a girl in the family."

"No, I can't, I'm sorry. You can stay outside my door the remainder of the holiday if you wish. Just please, please, don't give me false hope. And if anyone asks you why I didn't want to be with Lily, tell them I was jealous of her, that I hated her. It's better if she had no ties here, drawing her back."

Remus put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked at him, the tears still running down her face. Gently, he placed his hand under her chin and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I won't forget that you did this to protect her, Petunia. I wonder which once of you is really the strong one." He then stood from his place next to her and extended his hand. She reached out and grabbed ahold of it, letting him lead her up the stairs. Before she went into her room, she kissed him once more, knowing she could never do so again.

The days that followed fell into a regular pattern. With each successive day, Petunia became more hateful to her sister, taunting her, making fun of her, doing whatever she could to make her sister hate her and cut all ties with the family. It worked, and by the end of the holiday, the sisters were no longer speaking.

Remus was true to his word and kept his lonely vigil outside her door each night, listening to her sob for the sister she'd thought she had to drive away, and for the love she knew she could never have.

None of them knew of a way to escape unscathed from the vicious cycle that had ensnared Petunia and Lily. And when Lily left that final time, Petunia looked, for all the world, like a broken china doll.

She was crying when she finished the day's tale. She felt his hand cover hers, offering her what almost felt like a blessing and forgiveness. She looked into his eyes and saw that he had been crying as well, and she tentatively reached out her hand to wipe the tears away, half expecting him to flinch away from her touch. He didn't, and she gently wiped his tears away. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to make you cry. It's just, the closer we get to the present, the harder my story is to tell. But tell me, can I ever find redemption for what I did to my sister?"

"There's no need, Aunt Petunia. You did what you believed necessary to protect my mother. You kept up a wonderful act. What I don't understand is how you could hate me so."

"Oh, please believe me when I say I knew it wasn't right to treat you as we had. But Vernon was so against your kind, especially after what Father told him. Do you think you can wait a few more days for me to finish the tale? Maybe then you'll understand in whole."

"I can try, Aunt Petunia. May I hug you before going out into the garden?"

She nodded, and he placed his arms around her waist, laying his head on her shoulder. She shuddered a bit, and he felt the tears that rolled down her cheeks splash on her face. He reached up with one of hands and wiped off her tears, mimicking her earlier action, noting that she still flinched from that unexpected touch. Releasing her, he smiled at her until she smiled back weakly, her first true smile at him since he was a toddler.

"Run along now, they'll be back soon, and it wouldn't do for Vernon to catch you in here," she primly said, her former self slipping back into place. But she softened her words with a small smile, and Harry knew for certain that she had changed.


	6. Unholy Notion of the Mythic Power of Love

By the time she'd sent Vernon and Dudley off, Harry had tea ready and on the table. When she'd come into the kitchen, he was sitting in Vernon's chair, reading the paper, looking for something. "What are you looking for?"

"If there've been any unexplained deaths in the area lately. Voldemort's been on the warpath more and more, and he's started going after the Muggles and Muggleborn with a vengeance. I don't want him around here, so I check the paper every day."

"Would he really come this far? I mean, your school's in Scotland, right?"

"Yes, it is, but he feels like he had to get rid of everything that stands in his way. And he does it in such a way that no Muggle would get suspicious. Anyway, let's get on with your story. What are we going to talk about today?"

"Today, I'm going to tell you about Vernon and why I married him. You see him as he is today, but sometimes I can see in him the suave young man that Father brought home one day…"

"Petunia, I'd like you to meet Vernon Dursley. His uncle owns Grunnings, where I work. I've told Vernon so much about you in the past few weeks as he's been learning the ropes, and he said that he just had to meet you. Vernon, this is my daughter, Petunia."

He took her hand and placed a soft kiss on it. "Echante, Cherie."

Petunia giggled a bit, her fifteen year old self showing through. "Likewise," she responded, tucking a piece of her dark brown hair behind her ear. She led them into the living room, and her father sat in his chair, while Vernon joined her on the sofa. He sat very close to her, and she felt a small inkling of panic begin to curl up in the pit of her stomach. 'Why is he here,' she thought. 'If Father brought him home, does that mean he expects me to like him? He does seem nice and all, but I just don't trust Father.'

"So, Petunia, your father tells me you're going to be a secretary at Grunnings soon. Aren't you going to finish school?"

"My grades aren't the best, so there's no point in my continuing," she replied, a wistful tone in her voice.

"Well, I'm certain you'll do just fine there. The work's not too hard. Say, my uncle said I'll need a personal secretary – would you like that position? He said that I could have anyone of my choosing."

"I-I guess. Are you sure you want me?" she asked, looking down at her clasped hands, missing the look that Vernon gave her.

"Of course I want you. You seem like a very bright, charming young woman from what your father's told me. So, shall I tell my uncle that I've found my secretary?"

"Yes, that would be fine."

"Great! I'll stop by tomorrow with the details. Now, I really must get going, there's an important dinner this evening that I've been roped into going to. It was nice meeting you, Petunia. You're just as I imagined you'd be." He stood and let himself out, leaving Petunia in a daze.

Petunia soon found herself swept up into a working girl's life. She knew her mother was disappointed she'd quit school, and she felt little pangs of conscience every time she left for work with her father. She soon came to hate that ride into the city, as even then she wasn't safe from her father. But, then she was with Vernon and everything seemed to be better. He was so kind to her, and she found herself falling in love with him.

At work, she found any excuse she could to be close to Vernon and proved herself invaluable to him. Soon, he was taking her on business trips with him and the like.

It was on her first anniversary of working for him that he asked her to go out with him after work. He took her to a posh restaurant where she felt underdressed and out of place. Vernon assured her that she looked fine, and made her feel as comfortable as he could.

"So, would you like to do this again?" he asked as he drove her home.

She nodded, not looking at him, afraid he'd see the devotion in her eyes and scorn her for it. Ever since he'd begun to show an interest in her, her father had backed off, leaving her along more and more often. She knew in her heart that she'd do anything for Vernon.

That weekend, he took her to a nice dress shop and bought her a sharp-looking blue suit. "Can't have my assistant not looking her best," he'd said when she had objected to his paying for it. Next, he took her to a salon, where he had her hair styled and cut, to match the tone of the outfit, he'd explained.

She went home feeling like a princess in a fairy tale, and was seriously considering what he had suggested as they left the salon. 'Maybe I would look better as a blonde,' she thought as she took her outfit upstairs and hung it in her closet. Going to her vanity mirror, she tried to picture herself with lighter hair, but found she couldn't.

By the next weekend, she no longer had to imagine. She'd made the appointment on Monday and on Friday, she joined the world of blondes. She didn't particularly care for it, but Vernon's approval of her decision the following Monday made it all worthwhile. He'd taken her out that night, and when he'd brought her home, he gave her her first kiss from him. It was nothing like Remus's, her brain screamed as the kiss continued. Where Remus's kiss had been sweet and giving, Vernon's kiss was hungry and taking. Petunia pushed away the thought, focusing on Vernon and how he was making her feel.

As the kiss kept going, Petunia felt his hand move slowly up her side until it rested beneath her breast. This finally woke her up and she broke the kiss, pushing his hand away.

Instantly, he apologized for his forward behavior and escorted her to the door. "May I see you again on Wednesday?"

"Silly, you'll see me at work tomorrow."

"No, I mean can I take you out on Wednesday?"

"Oh, I don't see why not."

"Good, because I have something important to ask you."

"What is it, Vernon?"

"Not until Wednesday, my Pet. I'll see you tomorrow at work," he replied with a smirk.

Petunia went inside, wondering what Vernon could have to ask her. 'Maybe he wants to marry me. No, he couldn't. I'm sure it's just some business question.' She made her way upstairs and opened her window, letting the heady summer air into her room. As she changed into her nightgown, an owl flew into her room, dropping off a heavy envelope. It took off again before she could send it back with said envelope. Looking at it, she recognized Lily's beautiful script on the front,

Opening the letter addressed to her, she quickly read about her sister's wedding and the honeymoon she and James had spent in Rome. Lily had enclosed some pictures, and Petunia wept to see how happy her sister looked, as if she had finally escaped her demons. On the back of one of the wedding party pictures, Lily had written an invitation to join her at their home in Godric's Hollow, if she wanted.

Petunia longed to run to her sister and ask for her forgiveness for the cruel things she'd done, but a part of her wanted to stay here and be with Vernon. 'Maybe Vernon would visit them with me,' she thought. 'I'll ask him at dinner on Wednesday.'

Wednesday came, and Petunia anxiously awaited the evening. Vernon took her back to the first restaurant they'd gone to, and somehow she knew that this was really important, whatever he was going to ask her. Nervously, she played with her napkin throughout the meal. Finally, it was over, and Vernon called the waiter over, whispering something in his ear. He left the table and returned with a bottle of champagne, setting it in a bucket of ice on the table.

Vernon stood and moved to her side. Heavily, he got down on one knee and pulled out a small velvet-covered box. Opening it, he asked without preamble, "Petunia, will you marry me?"

All thoughts of Lily flew from her head as she looked at the diamond ring in the box. She began to cry a little and suddenly, she pictured Remus there instead of Vernon. This made her cry all the harder, and as she tried to push the image from her mind, she nodded.

Vernon took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. It was a perfect fit and looked so beautiful on her hand. Yet a tiny part of her cried that it was a clever trap, meant to keep her from her true potential. Ignoring that voice, Petunia bent forward and kissed Vernon soundly.

He stood and poured her a glass of the bubbly champagne, and then himself. "To our future," he said as he tapped her glass with his.

She drank it down, not realizing how potent it was, never having drank anything stronger than watered down wine. Vernon filled her glass again, and cautioned her to slow down on it. She nodded, and smiled at her soon-to-be husband, all thoughts of Lily and the life she could have had swept from her mind.

She wrote to Lily, telling her of the good news, and how she'd be unable to make it out to her place just now, what with planning the wedding and all.

The months between July and March seemed to fly by. Each day, there was some new detail that had to be completed. People to invite, wedding parties to form, dresses to be fitted for, halls to rent, churches to rent, ministers to ask to conduct the service. It never ended, or so it seemed to Petunia.

Petunia and Vernon's first argument came when they were making up the invitation list. He'd seen her sister's name on the list and yelled that he wasn't having a bunch of freaks at what was supposed to be his perfect day with his love. She'd asked him where he'd heard about her sister from, and he told her everything her father had told him about Lily and her world.

By the end of the argument, Vernon had convinced her that he was right, and she agreed not to send them an invitation, or ever speak to them again. She didn't want to lose Vernon, not because of something so trivial, and she reluctantly closed the door on any future she'd thought Lily and her could share.

March 16th, 1979, was a glorious day. Petunia should know, seeing as how she'd been up since dawn, nervous about the ceremony to come. Her mum brought her breakfast at eight, and Petunia picked at it, not really hungry. Looking about her old room, all of her belongings packed up to be taken to the house Vernon had bought them, she realized that she would never be coming home again. She was finally free to live a normal life with a husband who only wanted the best for her.

Sighing, she sat in front of her vanity and began putting her make-up on. By the time she'd finished, Vernon's sister, Marge, had joined her and was getting into her maid of honor dress. Petunia had always believed that Lily would be that for her, not some stranger she'd only met a few times before. Soon, her mother came into the room and helped Marge get Petunia into her dress. It was a beautiful creation, done in a medieval style with a long train. Since she was naturally very slim, she'd forgone the corset that had been suggested with the dress.

Once more, she sat at the vanity and had her mother put up her hair, then place the veil over the mass of curls she'd managed to coax out of the thin fine hair that, like Petunia, tended to be very contrary. Together, they followed Marge downstairs and into the waiting limo.

The trip to the church was one of the longest Petunia could remember. When the limo stopped in front of the doors, a thrill of excitement shot through her. She was really doing it, she was flying away from here and all that 'here' represented.

Marge helped her from the vehicle and led her into the church. All the guests were seated, and all that was left was for the family to be seated, then the ceremony could begin.

Petunia was surprised when her mother pulled her into a tight hug. "I invited Lily her, for you, after I heard that Vernon had forbid you to do so. Don't worry, it's only her, I made James stay home. Don't act so shocked, we've kept in touch. She's in the back, under a glamour spell, it was the most I could give you," her mother whispered in her ear. When she broke the embrace, Petunia was shocked to see the sadness in her mother's eyes. "Grow free, my precious little blossom, away from him."

Turning, her mother approached her father, and they were led to their seats in the sanctuary by an usher. Petunia was in a daze, and everything seemed to slow down. Finally, she heard the strains of 'Canon in D' begin, her cue to start down the nave towards the waiting Vernon. The ceremony passed by her unnoticed, and she replied in the appropriate places as if on auto-pilot. Soon, the minister was saying the closing prayer and announcing them as Mr and Mrs Vernon Dursley. Triumphantly, Vernon led her to the back of the church and they stood by the doors, greeting their guests. The last ones out were the back rows, and Lily was one of the final ones. The moment she hugged Petunia, she knew that it was her sister in the guise of an older woman. "I love you, Lily," she whispered in the other woman's ear.

"And I, you, my dearest sister. Mum told me everything, so I understand, a little. I guess this is good-bye."

"It was nice of you to come. I'm surprised you remember us from the flat."

"Yes, well, a face like yours is hard to forget. Congratulations once more." With those words, Lily bled back into the crowd, soon lost among the throng of people. Petunia smiled, a sense of peace filling her soul.

Soon, they were at the reception, and Vernon's family had them kissing at every possible moment. They ate very little, knowing they had a meal waiting for them at their hotel in Paris.

"Are you ready?" he asked, looking quite dashing in a pale grey suit.

"As I'll ever be," she replied, tugging at the jacket of her light pink travelling suit. When no one was looking, they slipped out of the reception hall and into the waiting limo that took them to the airport.

They were in Paris by the evening, eating supper on the terrace of their suite that overlooked the Seine and offered them a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower. After they'd eaten, Vernon poured her a glass of champagne. She took a small sip, recalling the effect it had had on her before.

Setting the glass on the bedside table, she then opened her suitcase and pulled out a silk negligee that had been packed there. She went into the bathroom and slipped into it, then looked at herself in the mirror. She was finally getting used to herself as a blonde, and though she was slim, she had a nice chest. She only hoped that she could please Vernon; make him as happy as he had made her.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she felt Vernon wrap his arms around her, Having been waiting for her. Hungrily, he kissed her, slipping the straps of the negligee off her shoulders, baring her to him. Picking her up, he carried her to the bed, covering her body in kisses. The last thing she remembered was him penetrating her, not encountering any barrier. He looked down at her in shock and backhanded her, causing her head to smack into the wooden headboard, and she mercifully passed out.

"So, who was he?" His angry voice woke her up in the morning.

Groaning, she struggled to sit up, her head spinning, body aching. "Who was who, dearest?"

"The one who had you before me. Who took what was meant for me?" He glared at her and she knew he couldn't hear the truth, he wouldn't believe her if she tried.

"I-it was one of Lily's friends, Remus, when they were visiting during the Christmas holidays. I-I'm sorry I didn't know it was that important to you."

"You were supposed to be perfect. Now, you're going to have to earn what respect I think you deserve."

"But Vernon, I love you. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Yes, but you should have told me about this before we married."

"I'd forgotten about it, it meant so little to me. You were much better, believe me."

"Oh, sweetums, I'm sorry I hurt you," he said, a sudden remorse coming over him, his twisted face returning to normal. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek before getting out of bed and going into the bathroom.

Turning on the shower, she let the hot water pelt down on her, mixing with her tears. 'Who am I?' she thought 'When did I turn myself into someone I no longer recognize, let alone like?'

"Shh, Aunt Petunia, it's all right, I'm here and you're safe," Harry said after she'd abruptly stopped speaking, her tears coming too fast to make speech understandable. He'd moved to her side almost at the beginning of the day's tale, and grabbed onto her hand when she'd begun to cry.

"Don't you see, Harry? I loved him, I really did. If I'd known then what I know now, it wouldn't have ended up like this. I never realized I'd be the one to pay the price that set Lily free. Now I'm trapped once more, only this time in a cage of my own making. You're so lucky to be leaving here soon, to be free in your world."

"If Voldemort doesn't kill me, that is," he said with a mirthless laugh. "Go upstairs and sleep. I'll make supper this evening."

She obeyed him, her emotions still wildly out of control. About halfway up the stairs, she heard him call after her: "Oh, and see if you can find your wand. There's something I want to try with your tomorrow."

She nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her and continued up the stairs. Her wand was right where it had always been. On the top shelf of her closet, buried in her winter sweaters.


	7. Now You're No Longer Talking

Petunia was a bundle of nerves before Vernon left with Dudley for the day. From the looks she'd been getting the past two days, she wondered if he knew something was happening between her and Harry. She shut the door, after kissing him good-bye, and breathed a sigh of relief. Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed the wand box for where she'd left it that morning – in the refrigerator.

As she sat next to Harry, she opened the hinged box and removed a beautiful wand. To him, it appeared to be 10½ inches long, and made from cedar wood. "So, what's the core of your wand made out of?"

"I'm sorry, what? I have no idea what you're talking about. When Ollivander gave this to me, he didn't tell me anything about it."

"Did you ever try it out?"

"No. I'd forgotten about it by the time Lily came home after her first year there, and it's remained hidden ever since."

Harry picked up the wand, testing how it felt in his hand, swishing it around in the air a bit. A few blue sparks came from the end, so he knew it worked at least. Handing it to his aunt, he said, "Why don't you try what I just did, to see what's happens."

Petunia was amazed that the blue sparks showed up for her too, and she dropped the wand to the table, as if it had burnt her. "We should get on with today's part of the tale," she hurriedly said.

Harry nodded, giving his aunt a hard, appraising look that flustered her.

Looking down at the table, she said softly, "Today, I'm going to tell you about the death of your grandparents."

It was Halloween, and Vernon and Petunia had been married almost eight months. She'd quickly learned to please him, both in what she did around the home and in bed. She'd quit Grunnings to stay at home, because that's what he wanted. In her place, he'd hired someone who was in her twenties, a good stone heavier than her, and, to Petunia at least, a good deal prettier. She'd found it didn't do to ask Vernon questions about his decisions.

They were just leaving a party hosted by one of the managers at Grunnings, and since they were in the area, Vernon decided to call on her parents.

"So late at night, Vernon? Mum's most likely sleeping by now, she still leaves early for her job."

"It's not that late, darling. Besides, we haven't seen them since the wedding, and I'm certain your mother would love to see you." Though his tone was light, Petunia could still hear the threat that lay behind the words, and chose not to press the issue any further.

The closer to her old house they got, the more a sense of dread filled her stomach, causing her to shift uneasily in her seat. Looking out the window, she noticed that there was an odd green glow hovering over the houses near her family's. As Vernon drove ever closer, she was able to make out a shape in the clouds. Gasping at the ghastly image of a skull eating a snake, she urged Vernon to drive faster.

When he turned down her street, she saw that the cloud was hovering over her home. Seeing a burst of red, she knew that Lily was already there. Just as they pulled up to the driveway, the cloud disappeared, leaving the night sky full of only stars once more.

She opened the door and stepped into the crisp autumn air. "Lily, what's going on?" she cried out.

Lily ran up to her sister and threw her arms around her. "It's so horrible. Mum and Da are gone – he's killed them!"

"Who's killed them?" she asked, not realizing the meaning behind the words yet.

"Voldemort. He's been after James, and after he couldn't take us out the first time, he went after our parents. His were killed last week, and now, ours."

"Then, they're dead?" Petunia numbly asked, finally hearing and understanding what Lily was telling her. Lily nodded and then hugged her sister again, sobs wracking her body.

"Excuse me, Mrs Potter, Mrs Dursley, but we're going inside now. Perhaps you'd like to join us?" a kindly older man asked. Lily nodded and led Petunia into the house where they'd grown up all too fast. Memories assailed Petunia the minute she stepped over the threshold and she drew closer to Lily, seeking something from her she couldn't quite name.

"Your mother was attacked in the kitchen. Thank Merlin she was not tortured beforehand. Your father, on the other hand, was set upon by a Dementor," the man said as he led them to the parlour.

"What's a Dementor?" Petunia asked fearfully.

"A horrible creature," James responded. "They come into a place and suck every last bit of happiness out of it. That's how they survive. And if they get near a person, they'll take their soul with a kiss, leaving just a dry husk where life once was."

"And this is what happened to Father?"

"Yes, only one of the Death Eaters finished him off. I'm sorry that this had to happen, but we'd assumed they'd be safe. No one knew where your parents lived."

Petunia began backing away from Lily and her husband, a look of horror on her face. "It was your world that killed my mum. Your kind. You're going to end up just like them, you know. I'm so glad I was never right for you freaks. Who knows, maybe I'd be dead, too." Turning, she ran from the house and into Vernon's waiting arms. "They're dead. Lily's kind killed them."

"See, I told you that world was trouble. Let's get going, I heard one of them saying the police would be here soon, and that Lily would take care of everything."

Petunia nodded, and he led her to the car. The drive home was silent, neither of them feeling much like talking. Once in the house, Petunia hung her coat up and looked down at the costume she'd worn. She'd gone to the party dressed as what everyone had assumed was Alice in Wonderland. Only she'd known that she was really dressing as Sarah. Suddenly, she wanted to be rid of the offending costume, and she tore at the fastenings. Soon, she was clad only in her undergarments and she picked up the costume and threw it in the fireplace.

Making her way upstairs, she thought about her mother, and how she'd not be around to help her with any children she and Vernon might have. She swallowed a sob and went into the bedroom. Vernon was there, getting undressed. He'd put on a bit of weight, but she knew not to say anything about that, either. She moved to his side and wrapped her arms around him, trying not to shudder at the feel of his flesh against her. With sudden clarity, she knew that the one thing she most desired was a child, and there was only one way to get one. She kissed Vernon and then led him to the bed, letting him be with her, her mind trying to picture someone else in his place, someone who really loved her, not just when she pleased him, but every moment of every day.

At last, it was over and he placed a damp kiss on her forehead before rolling over and falling asleep. She prayed that night to a God she was no longer certain she believed in that she would have a baby to love as the outcome of this night.

"Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Dursley. Come July, you'll be parents," the doctor announced. Vernon looked at his wife, who was smiling to herself.

"A mum, I'll be a real and true mum," she whispered, turning to Vernon and throwing her arms around him. "We're going to be parents!" she exclaimed before beginning to cry. Vernon led her to the car and took her home. After making certain she was comfortable on the sofa, he left for work.

The months between the doctor telling them the good news and July seemed to drag by. It seemed to Petunia that she grew larger with every passing day, and the bigger she got, the more Vernon wanted to be with her. He was constantly touching her when he was home, rubbing her belly, petting her chest, and other things that drove Petunia to distraction.

She woke up early one morning in June with extremely painful cramps. While getting up to use the bathroom, she nearly doubled over in pain and realized it was time. "Vernon! We have to go to hospital! He's coming!" she shrieked.

Vernon was up, out of bed, and dressed in ten minutes and he drove her there as fast as he could. Once there, the nurse took charge and helped Petunia up to labor and delivery. Getting her changed into a hospital gown, the nurse then gave her an epidural and she no longer felt the pain of her contractions as much. Soon, Vernon joined her, along with her obstetrician.

She was in labor for what seemed like days, though it was really only ten hours. As the nurse wrapped up her son, Petunia cried in relief. Vernon had his son, and she had a child to spoil.

They sent an obligatory announcement to Lily and James that gave all the relevant details, like Dudley's weight – five pounds, twelve ounces, his length – eighteen inches, and the day of his birth – 17 June. Petunia never expected to hear back from her sister. But six weeks later, she was sent a similar announcement, telling of the birth of Lily's son, Harry, who'd been eight pounds, six ounces and twenty-one inches long at his birth, on the 31st of July. Lily had also sent along a silver rattle for Dudley, wishing him well.

Dudley grew fast, and it seemed to Petunia that he was hungry all the time. Her breasts ached from his near constant suckling and she couldn't bear to have Vernon touch them as he loved to do. Dudley was also a fussy baby, who soon learned his mother would jump at his every cry. Petunia had not intended to spoil him like this, but Vernon demanded it. He couldn't stand to hear Dudley cry after a long day at the office, and Petunia would do anything to keep him happy.

All the normal milestones came and went – like Dudley's first word (food), followed quickly by his second (won't). Petunia had weaned him by nine months, and at his checkup, the doctor said he was finally where other babies were, weight-wise. He'd been surprised that a preemie had been able to grow so fast, and this pleased Petunia no end. Her baby was completely normal. She never stopped to consider that her love for Dudley, combined with the talent she'd never been allowed to hone, was what had made the difference.

Dudley took up a lot of her time, and so the house work began to slip. Vernon noticed this and he berated her for not doing her duty. She pushed herself harder to make certain that everything was spotless for him, exhausting her body and mind.

About the time she began to wonder why Vernon wasn't forcing her to give him his husbandly rights, she found the lipstick prints on his collar. She was furious that he would betray her so, and she confronted him when he got home from work that day.

"So, how's the new secretary working out?"

"Oh, she's fine, dear. Good at shorthand, and at typing."

"Anything else she's good at, dearest?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice that he picked right up on.

"No, luv, nothing else," he shortly replied.

"Then how do you explain the lipstick I found on your collar this morning while I was doing laundry? I would certainly never wear that trashy a color."

She never saw his hand come up and slap her across the face. "That's none of your business, woman. Do you understand me?"

Mutely, she nodded, tasting the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but by now she knew better than to make a sound when she cried. Roughly, he grabbed her arm and dragged her up the stairs, leaving Dudley in his playpen in the living room. Petunia knew what was to come next, but it still hurt her heart to know she'd forced her husband into such a place that would make him lash out against her.

Vernon threw her on the bed and began fumbling with his clothes. A sharp knock came at the front door, and he looked at where she lay, sobbing softly into her hand. "Make yourself presentable and answer the door, slag. I'll be down in a few moments.

Carefully, Petunia stood and inched past him, smoothing her skirt. Silently, she made her way down the stairs. Upon reaching the door, she plastered a bright, fake smile on her face and opened it. Standing on her porch was a woman her age, or thereabouts.

"May I help you?" she asked, a slight quaver in her voice the only thing that betrayed her true feelings.

"Yes, I'm Yvonne Spencer. My husband and I just moved into the neighborhood and I thought I'd try to meet some of the nearby families. And you are?"

"I'm Petunia Dursely. Come inside, meet my family." Petunia led her into the living room, where she picked up her son and showed him off. They'd just settled into a conversation when Vernon made his appearance. Kissing his wife lightly on the top of her head, he took his son from her arms and introduced himself. "I'm Vernon. While I'm pleased my wife is making friends, I have an early morning meeting tomorrow, so we must be getting supper ready – early night and all, you know. Come by again, though. She needs to be occupied in some way."

With a smile that never quite made it to his eyes, he led the young woman out the door, before returning to his wife. She looked up at him, fear darkening her eyes as she unconsciously shrunk back into the sofa.

"You heard me, woman. I want supper ready in half an hour." He spun on his heel, taking Dudley upstairs with him.

Petunia stared after him for a moment, then hurriedly rose and began to make supper. In a short time, less than the half hour he'd allotted her, she had what she hoped to be a filling meal on the table. As she set their plates down in the respective places, Vernon placed Dudley in his chair, and then took a seat.

The meal went well, but Petunia was filled with a sense of apprehension. Vernon had that look in his eyes, the same her father had had when he'd been intending to hurt her. She picked at her food, her stomach threatening to rebel at any moment in sick anticipation of the punishment to come.

Abruptly, Petunia broke off her story, staring at the wall just above Harry's head. After a moment, she spoke once more. "I had to be taken to the hospital that night. Later, I found out I'd lost the child I'd been unknowingly carrying. I also lost any hope of having another baby, despite my highest hopes for a little girl to raise and love."

Harry slipped an arm around his aunt, and was surprised when she leaned into him. It seemed as if she was finally letting him in, as if excising the past was allowing her to feel once more. To his surprise, he no longer wanted her in this house of pain. But how to rescue her? The idea came to him in an instant. He'd have to write a few more letters, but he was almost certain that the answer would be yes. After all, she could never refuse a person who was hurting so badly.

"Aunt Petunia, have you ever thought that escape was possible?"

"Harry, there's nowhere for me to go."

"That's what I believed, too, once. If there was a chance, would you take it?"

"I don't think that way any longer. Hope is too painful to hold onto." She stood and began to pull out food for supper. "But, if there was the chance, I would," she softly said, almost to herself. Harry heard those quiet words and began to smile as he set the table for four.


	8. Remembering Something I Forgot

Harry was re-reading the letter he'd received that morning. He'd been right, and she had come through for him once again. It would be a few days before she'd be ready for them, as she had to tell the Order what was going on. Also, he needed time to pack his belongings as well as his aunt's. He took a seat next to her, still smiling, until he caught the look in her eyes and the bruise on her cheek. All happy thoughts fled as concern for her filled his mind.

"I'm fine, before you ask. It's just a bruise, after all. Anyway, today's segment will be the shortest, as well as the hardest, to tell. Today, I speak of my sister's death.

Dudley continued to grow, and Petunia was having a hard time lifting him any longer. He squirmed and wriggled all the time he was held and wanted sweets all the time. He was indulged in this because it was one of the few ways he could be quieted.

The autumn months had become stiflingly hot, with the air refusing to cool. In the pit of Petunia's stomach, a sense of dread had taken up residence. She tried to brush it off as worry about Vernon and his job not being secure after all these years, but deep in her heart she knew it wasn't that. Something bad was going to happen, and soon.

September slipped into October and the weather pattern, as well as the feeling in Petunia, remained the same. As the month passed, the weather became more oppressive, or at least it seemed that way to Petunia.

The night of October 31st found Petunia sleeping on top of the sheets. It was a restless sleep, filled with strange dreams of an evil laugh, Lily's terrified face, and a scream that chilled Petunia to the bone. As green became the only color she could see any longer, her eyes snapped open. Breathing in deeply, she tried to calm her racing heart, but found she couldn't. She looked over at her husband, who was still sleeping deeply, unaware of his wife or her labored breathing.

Petunia slipped off the bed and drew a housecoat over her nightgown. Quietly, she tiptoed to Dudley's room and peeked in on him. He was still sleeping soundly, so she shut his door once more and crept back to bed. She was not able to shake the chill from her bones and so she slipped beneath the covers and snuggled close to Vernon, trying to soak up some of the warmth from his body. Sleep did not come easily, but when it did, there were no more dreams. A small, unconscious part of Petunia wondered if she would ever dream like that again.

When morning came, Petunia was surprised to feel the nip of autumn in the air. The weather had broken sometime in the night, and she was glad to have a sense of normalcy back in her life. She dressed for the day and went downstairs to get the morning paper before making breakfast.

As she opened the door, she was surprised to see a small bouquet of flowers lying on the stoop on top of the paper. As she picked them up, she smiled slightly. 'Vernon must have paid the paper boy to do this for me. That's so sweet of him.'

Once inside, she set the paper on the table and filled a small vase with water, placing the flowers inside. After she'd finished setting the vase on the table as well, she began to make breakfast, listening for her husband and child to make their wake up noises.

When Vernon came into the kitchen, he was wearing one of his nicer suits. "Do you have an important meeting today, dear?" she asked.

"No, I just felt like wearing something nice today. So, who got you the flowers?"

"You mean you didn't get these for me?"

"Why would I do something like that? It's not our anniversary or anything. Tell me, Pet, you aren't seeing anyone behind my back, are you?"

She looked at him and saw the malice in his eyes. Quickly, she said, "Of course not, dearest. I love you. Why would there be the need for anyone else?"

Vernon visibly relaxed at her words. "Exactly. Who else could love you like me?"

The rest of breakfast was spent in silence. Petunia wondered who had sent her the flowers, now that she knew her husband was not behind them. She took a closer look at the bouquet and noticed there was a lily and a marigold nestled in between the bunches of baby's breath, forget-me-nots, and gardenias. 'How odd,' she thought, staring at the flowers. She almost believed she had made out a face in the lily when Dudley began to cry.

She kissed Vernon good-bye and then went upstairs to deal with her son. After changing him and then dressing him in outdoor clothes, she brought him downstairs and fed him. The doctors were getting a bit concerned about his weight, but she knew he was just big-boned. Besides, as he grew, the baby fat would melt off him.

When he'd finished his food, she took him into the garage and put him in his stroller. They walked around the neighborhood a bit, stopping at the cat lady's house to let Dudley pet a cat. Mrs Figg usually didn't like him to do that because he was rather rough with them. Today, however, it was a different story. She'd smiled shakily at him as they approached her fence and picked up her gentlest cat for him to pet.

"I am so sorry about what happened, dear."

"What do you mean, Mrs Figg?"

"You haven't heard yet? Surely you must have felt something. I'm certain you'll be informed shortly, then. Take care." Mrs Figg took the cat back from Dudley and scurried into her house, shutting the door forcefully.

Petunia tried to brush off her neighbor's words, but found she couldn't. She pushed the now screaming Dudley home as fast as she could. Once safe inside her living room, she gave her son a bottle to quiet him and then sat down on the sofa. Something was not quite right, though she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe Vernon had heard the news on the radio and could tell her what was going on.

Hours flew by, as she fed Dudley, then put him down for a nap. She flipped on the telly, but it told her nothing. Sighing, she turned it off and went into the kitchen to begin supper.

Vernon had been later than usual, and had been acting strangely ever since arriving home. "Dearest, what did your sister name her son again? Wasn't it Horace of something like that?"

Thinking it a test from him about her sister and her world, she answered him with as much derision as she could. "No, it was Harry. Such a nasty, common name."

"Right. Well, I'm off to bed, long day tomorrow and all. Care to join me?"

She looked at him and saw the old Vernon in his eyes, the Vernon she'd known before marriage had changed him. Smiling at him, she nodded and let him lead her up the steps to their bedroom. As she changed for the night, he put Dudley in his crib and then came back to her. For one brief moment, she was happy again.

She snuggled close to him again as she had the previous night and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him. She drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms like any normal wife in England.

The morning dawned clear and bright. Petunia carefully disentangled himself from her husband, then dressed for the day. Today, the milkman came, and she knew she had to get the milk in the refrigerator quickly before it spoiled. She rushed down the stairs and breathlessly opened the door. Bending down, she reached to pick up the wire basket the bottles came in when she noticed the wicker basket.

Something in the basket moved, and she picked it up cautiously. Moving part of the blanket, she was shocked to see a baby's face staring back at her. Giving a small gasp of recognition, she brought the basket inside before she began to scream.

"Vernon thought I was screaming in horror at the fact we were going to have a freak in the house. Really, though, it was recognizing your eyes and knowing then that my sister was dead that caused me to react like that."

"So you never saw my mum again?"

"Not since my parents died. That was the final straw. I wish now that things had been different, but we can't change the past."

"We can change the future, though. Here, read this. It came this morning, and it may be the best news I've gotten in quite a while. I've got to begin packing, though. She's expecting us the day after tomorrow."

"Who is, Harry? What are you talking about?"

"Just read the letter, Aunt Petunia, then come upstairs and I'll help you pack and disguise the closet so nothing looks out of place."

"Stop right there and explain yourself, young man. I demand to know what you have planned."

"The letter will tell you everything you need to know. However, we have a lot to do this afternoon and tomorrow, if we're to be ready. I'll see you upstairs in ten minutes." He smiled at her, and then left her at the table to read the letter.

She opened the envelope and drew out a single sheaf of paper. The writing was more flowery then she was accustomed to, but she was still able to make out what the letter said. Salty tears pricked her eyes as she read about the welcome being planned for them. After all these years, the words Remus had spoken, about sanctuary, and those willing to give it, were coming true.


	9. The Sound of One Hand Clapping

It had been hard not to give herself away. There was an excitement stirring in her, as if something old was awakening, anxious to return home. She'd made Vernon's favorite breakfast and sent her husband and son off to work warmly for the first time in almost a week. Vernon had given her an odd look, but since Potter had yet to show his face in the kitchen that morning, he figured her good mood likely came from that. Or so she hoped he thought.

As soon as she heard the car leave the yard, Petunia hurried up the stairs and into Harry's room. A trunk sat in the middle of the floor, and it contained some of her clothes and other things she wanted to take with her. She'd asked Harry if there was any way that Dudley could come along, but he had gently reminded her of how Vernon would hunt her down if she did something like that. She knew, deep in her heart, that he was right, but her soul still ached at the prospect of leaving her son behind.

"Do you think we can talk and pack? It would save us some time if we did."

"Whatever works best for you, Aunt Petunia."

"Since this is my last day here, I'll tell you the last bit of the story. It's about how you came to live in the cupboard under the stairs and why."

At first, Petunia had thought it might be hard to look after two toddlers. But where Dudley was loud and rambunctious, Harry was quiet and reserved. She never had to worry about him, but found that she came to love the time that Dudley napped and she could hold her nephew. She felt so young when she held him, so different from when she held her son. It was an awful thought, but she had quickly come to love Harry just as much, if not more, than her own son.

Vernon began to notice the attention she was giving to Harry and he started mentioning it to her. Soon, it was more than words he was using, and she began to back off with the attention when Vernon was home.

It wasn't long, though, before Harry began to show characteristics of his father. Petunia, despite her best intentions, began to avoid contact with him, allowing him to play in the closet beneath the stairs, as long as he was out of her way. This was also a signal to Dudley, who began to pick on his smaller cousin, though never where his mother could see, as she would still come to Harry's defense.

School had been a nightmare for Petunia and the children. Harry had taken to his studies, like his mother and aunt, which hurt Dudley's feelings – he'd been told by his father he was much brighter than the Potter brat. This caused him to bully his cousin more, which the other kids in the class picked up on as well, leaving Harry the outcast.

Yet he still brought home excellent marks and glowing praise from his teacher. Vernon was less pleased with this than Petunia. To Petunia, his excellent marks seemed to indicate to her the unlikelihood of his belonging to that world. She glossed over the fact that whenever Harry was angry or upset, something broke. That was usually just chalked up to coincidence, even though the thing that usually broke was Dudley's.

Vernon also began to notice these coincidences and sent Harry to stay in the cupboard beneath the stairs more and more often. Soon, a mattress was put down there, and that became Harry's room. She knew he didn't like it much, but she rationalized this treatment as being better than being hit all the time, or worse.

Soon, Vernon had Harry helping her with chores around the house. She'd always loved gardening, but had abandoned it with the birth of Dudley. Now, with Harry's help, she had a beautiful garden once more. Petunia was glad to have the company, as all Dudley wanted to do was play video games on the telly. Harry never spoke much when they were in the garden, and in that respect he seemed much like Petunia had been at his age. She longed to take him in her arms, but knew he wouldn't let her. Not since she'd defended Dudley's bullying of him. She had been unwilling to see her only son as an aggressor, not wanting to identify her father and Vernon in Dudley's personality traits.

After a while, the silence between them grew unbearable and Petunia left her garden in his care, only coming outside to give him orders about how to do things the proper way. Then, she'd watch from the kitchen as he pulled weeds, watered flower beds, and pruned shrubs. He was a quick learner, and Petunia was grateful for that.

Vernon kept adding to his chore list, and soon, his grades began to suffer from that. Dudley was pleased his cousin was doing badly, as it made him look even better. It was also about this time that all the weird coincidences began to occur with greater frequency. Petunia tried to shrug it off, but found that she couldn't. Lily's escape had become Harry's destiny, and insidiously, Petunia began to hate that part of him. She had hoped to keep him away from that world, safe from becoming a savior to a world that had killed his mother and father, his grandparents. It had all been in vain, though, as she was confronted by the evidence of his freakishness.

All too soon, her behavior mirrored Vernon's, and she believed if she could act like she hated him, when his world came to take him back she wouldn't hurt so much. Nor would the news of his eventual death cause the grief that Lily's had.

The day the owls began to come, she knew he was soon to go. That world, his world, called out in the very blood that ran through his veins. She didn't want to let him go off to what she believed to be his certain death, but what could stop it? Certainly nothing she or Vernon did.

Even as she drove him away with her hateful words, a part of her was grieving for the loss of him to them. She'd held on to him as long as she could, and now it was their turn to have him and mold him into something like his father and mother had been.

"So, you see, I did fall victim to my own prejudices against your world. A selfish part of me wishes I had ended the whole thing by sending the owl back with our answer of refusal, that I had kept you here with me, somewhat safe."

"Had you done that, though, we all might have died. Voldemort is looking for immortality and power, and it looks like I am going to be the savior of the magical world. To a lot of them, I'm only 'The Boy That Lived', some distant person they idolize." He paused in his packing to look at her. "I don't want to die, but if it meant saving my friends, I'd gladly do so. That's the you in me, Aunt Petunia. I'd do anything to protect those I love."

They spent the rest of the morning packing in silence. Petunia was uncertain of her living arrangements once she got wherever she was going, and so included towels, sheets, pillows, all the basics she would need to begin again. Then Harry went through and put a low level concealing charm on all the closets that were missing things so that Vernon wouldn't notice them being gone. The pictures that Petunia decided to take he could do nothing about, as that required more magic than he had been allowed to use.

They both heard a car in the drive at the same time, much earlier than usual. Looking out between the curtains, Petunia saw that it was Vernon, and fear gripped her heart.

"Just follow my lead, Aunt Petunia. Don't worry, everything will be all right." He gave her a small smile, and then opened his mouth. "I don't care what you say, I'm going to stay with her the rest of the summer! Her parents invited me!"

"What part of no do you not understand? It's absolutely out of the question. I've forbidden you to do this, and yet you persist in rebelling. Just wait until your uncle gets home, he'll take care of this, believe me. You'll never see the sun until September first if I have my way!"

"I'll sneak out if I have to – I've done it before, you know! You can't hold me here!" Harry stormed out of the room and ran into his uncle, who grabbed his arm in a painful grip.

"Boy, were you yelling at you aunt?"

"And what if I was? There's nothing you can do about it. I can apparate now, meaning I can go wherever I please, just by thinking about it hard enough. There's nothing either of you can do to hold me here!"

Vernon's face turned red with rage. "Get in your room, boy, and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay there for a few days!" He walked into his room, and saw his wife sitting on the bed crying. "I knew something has been going on these past few days. You just haven't been yourself lately. What has he done to you?"

"Nothing, dearest. It was just a little argument. But what are you doing home so soon?"

"I forgot to tell you this morning that we're going away for a few days. We'll be leaving as soon as I get home from work tonight. Ted offered me the use of his cottage near Brighton, and I told him we could really use the time together, just the two of us. Like old times, right, Pet?"

She gave him a wan smile and replied, "How wonderful to get away. But do you think it's wise to leave the Boy here with Dudley?"

"He knows enough to not try any funny business on my son. Don't worry, I have everything under control. Make certain you have your bags packed by the time I get home, I want to leave right away." He gave her a sloppy kiss before exiting the room.

Not until she heard the motor start did Petunia remember to breath. Quickly standing from the bed, she raced to Harry's room, her eyes bright with unshed tears. The room was completely empty, save Harry and his broomstick. "Harry, where's the trunk? What are we going to do?"

"Do you trust me, Aunt Petunia?"

"Of course, why?"

"We're leaving, now. I've sent Hedwig on ahead of us with a message for our hosts. Obviously, there's been a slight change of plans."

"But how are we are going to get there? You can't drive, besides, there's no other car."

"There's my broomstick. I don't have a portkey, and I can't side along apparate yet, so this is the only option left open to us." He opened the window, then got on his broomstick as it levitated off the ground. He grabbed a silvery piece of cloth off his bed and threw it at his aunt. "Here, put this over the front of me and then get on behind me. After you're on, pull it over you. It should keep us out of sight of any Muggles watching the sky."

Petunia did as she was told, and listened to her nephew say something in Latin. Then, the cloth that had been loose around them tightened and Harry took off through the window. She clung to him as they climbed higher and higher. She rested her head against his back and closed her eyes to the tiny objects and people below them, and soon, she fell asleep, clinging to Harry.


	10. Forget About The Ones That Are Crying

The next thing Petunia knew, they were touching down in the yard of a mish-mash of a house. Harry pulled the cloth off of them, and she saw a whole host of redheads rush out into the yard.

"Harry, do you have any idea how many laws you broke? It's a good thing Arthur was able to mask most of the magic you did. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking this was my last chance to get her out safely. Besides, now no one will know where I am. How soon before we move on?"

"Tomorrow. The Grangers already dropped Hermione off there, and Ron's with her now. I thought it would go better if we stayed here a night before moving on. Hello Petunia, I'm Molly Weasley, and these are some of my children. Ginny, Charlie, I want you to welcome Harry's aunt. She'll be living with us until Harry can find a house for the two of them."

There was an awkward silence as everyone tried to not be the first one to speak. Finally, Ginny moved forward and took Petunia's hand in hers. "You'll be staying in my room for the night. I'll show you where it is." They walked into the house as Harry smiled at their retreating backs.

"Are you insane? You could have gotten her killed, not to mention yourself! Were you even thinking?"

"Mrs Weasley, I'm sorry, but all I could think about was getting her out of there. Vernon knew something was going on and was planning to take her away. It was a do or die situation, I'm certain. After everything she's told me, and all that she's gone through, I couldn't let her down just before the end. You understand, don't you?"

Molly sighed heavily. "Of course I do, dear. I just wish you hadn't been so rash about it. Albus won't be too thrilled to hear about this either, Harry. We're coming up to the final battle, and we need you to stay safe, not put yourself in unnecessary danger."

"Saving her was completely necessary! I don't care what anyone says – I'd rather be her savior than the entire wizarding world's!" He ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I mean all this world has expected of me is to be the Boy Who Lived and to save them again once Voldemort came back on the scene. She has asked nothing of me. Even bringing her here was my idea. She's the last link to my mother, and if you knew their story in full…" He broke off mid-sentence and looked at her, his eyes a brighter green than normal.

Molly pulled him into a tight hug. "I read between the lines of your letter and asked Remus what had really happened all those years ago. He wouldn't tell me everything, even when Tonks pressed him to, but from the look in his eyes I knew it was nothing good."

"The reality of what she did for my mother, or what she felt she had to do, is not for me to discuss. Don't push her to talk of her past; she'll do that if and when she's ready. I brought her here, to you, for all that you can give her." Harry broke from the embrace. "But should you or anyone in the Order hurt her, there will be me to deal with."

He retreated inside and went up the stairs to Ginny's room. Knocking softly on the door, he then entered and found his aunt in the middle of asking Ginny a question. Coughing to get their attention, he then went in and sat on the bed next to Ginny. "We're going on to the safe house tomorrow, so I wouldn't unpack anything," he said as he pulled the spelled trunk out of his pocket.

Petunia put up a hand to stop him. "Thank you, but I shan't need that until we arrive at our final destination. Ginny has graciously allowed me the use of a set of her clothes tomorrow so that I won't look or feel so out of place on my arrival."

"We're about the same size, Harry," Ginny said, with a slight smile and a look of concern in her eyes. "Your aunt is just a little bit thinner than I am, though I'm certain Mum will change that soon enough."

"If you do need anything from here, Aunt Petunia, just ask Ginny to show you where Ron's room is. I'll be there for the night," Harry said as he placed the trunk back into his pocket. He left the room and was glad to hear his aunt pick up the conversation again.

The day went smoothly, with Ginny's quick acceptance of Petunia affecting the rest of the family. Soon, night fell, and everyone retreated to their rooms to get some sleep, as the day ahead of them promised to be a long one.

Harry had just fallen into a light sleep when he felt himself being shaken awake. Groggily, he croaked out, "What?"

"It's your aunt. She's having a terrible dream and I can't wake her up from it. Oh Harry, I never realized she was, that we shared a somewhat common background – you know, what with Riddle my first year at Hogwarts. Please, you've got to come now."

A sharp scream pierced the quiet and bolted Harry out of bed. Pushing past Ginny, he raced from Ron's room into the one where his aunt was. In a moment, he was at her side on the bed, taking her hand into his own, whispering words of reassurance. Ginny slipped in quietly and took her other hand, smiling gently at Harry. Though it took a little time, he eventually got her calmed down and back to sleep.

"Harry, before you leave, will you move my bed closer to hers."

"Why?"

"She may have let go of your hand, but…" Ginny held up her arm, showing Harry the tight grip his aunt retained on Ginny.

Harry did as he was asked. Before he left, he kissed Ginny's cheek. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being so kind and accepting her so quickly. It means the world to me." He turned and walked to the door, then looked back as Ginny carefully got into bed so as not to disturb his sleeping aunt. He smiled at the bridge of hands the spanned the small space between the beds, a link of hope that signaled her acceptance into his world.

The morning dawned bright and clear, but clouds in the far off horizon promised rain later. A car had been ordered from the Ministry and soon after breakfast the group was on their way to 13 Grimauld Place.

The car stopped in front of the house and everyone got out. Bill and Charlie began to move the luggage inside, and Petunia watched as they seemed to shimmer a bit before her eyes. "Harry, what was that?" she nervously asked.

He took her hand and smiled at her. "Trust me." Ginny came up and took her other hand and they led her forward. She closed her eyes, only to find herself on the stoop of an old mansion that had not been quite so clear five seconds before.

"It's part of how our world works," Ginny said, answering the question in Petunia's eyes. As Molly came to stand beside the, she let go of Petunia's hand and mover closer to Harry. "I need to talk to you. Mum, can you show Petunia to my room and have Fred and George move another bed in? Harry and I will be along shortly." Ginny took hold of his elbow and steered him farther into the foyer. "Why didn't you tell us she was magical?" she hissed.

"She's not, really. No owl ever came for her, after all."

"Then how can she get past the wards? They're keyed for us."

"I'm certain your mother arranged it, Ginny," he responded, not telling her about the wand Ollivander had given her, not the fact that it responded to her. "Look, I have to drop this trunk off in your room and then I'm going to introduce her to the Order members that are here. If you'd like, you can join us."

"That would be lovely," she replied, still not buying his story.

Together, they climbed the stairs to where Ginny had stayed the previous summer. He nodded at Molly, who told Petunia it was time to meet the people who would be coming and going from the house quite frequently. As a foursome, they walked down the stairs and went into the library. There was a large group of people waiting for them, and Harry began the introductions.

"These are my best friends, Ron and Hermione. They'll be staying here until September, when school begins. Next to them is Kingsley Shaklebolt, one of our finest operatives. I'm certain you remember Remus, and that's his, well, that's Tonks. Then next to her is…"

"Ms McGonagall." The words slipped from her lips, unbidden as old memories rose to the surface of her mind.

"You remember me? After all this time?"

"How could I forget you? I waited so long for you to return for me that your image became burned into my memory." She breathed deeply and everyone heard the catch in it. "If you'll excuse me," she said, before turning and hurrying from the room. Harry and Ginny followed her a few moments later and were in time to watch her run into Severus Snape.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't look where I was going." She sounded so forlorn to Harry and he was grateful when Ginny grabbed his hand.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he asked in a voice Harry recognized well from taking Potions with him.

Hearing the challenge in his voice, Petunia drew herself up tall and replied. "I'm Petunia Evans Dursley and I was brought here by my nephew Harry. And you are?"

For a moment, Severus seemed taken aback by her direct answer, then he replied, "I am Severus Snape. I teach your nephew at Hogwarts. Lily was, she was classmate of mine."

She stared at him a moment, failing to recognize him, then spoke once more. "That's nice to know, Mr Snape. It was a pleasure meeting you, but as you can see, I need to wash up. If you'll excuse me."

"Here," he said, holding out a square of white linen, which she hesitantly took and began to wipe her cheeks with.

"Thanks," she whispered as she tried to hand the handkerchief back to him.

"Keep it. Staying here, as you are, I'm sure you'll need it again." He then brushed past her to join the others in the library. She turned to watch him and saw her shadows standing there.

"I'm not going back in right now. Will you give them my apologies?"

"Of course, Aunt Petunia. Ginny will show you around the house, won't you?"

"Certainly, Harry."

They parted, with Harry rejoining the others and Ginny leading Petunia to the next room in the house.

"Ginny, is he always like that?" she asked as they walked.

"Yeah, Harry's always looked out for those he cares for."

"No, not Harry. I meant Mr Snape. Is he always like that?"

"Oh, Snape. No, come to think of it, he's not. Why do you ask?"

"No reason really, just wanted to know," she responded as she slipped his handkerchief in her pocket, a small smile on her face. Slipping her arm through Ginny's, she let the girl lead her into another room. "Now, tell me about this place."


End file.
